


Homecoming

by Kahtya Sofia (KahtyaSofia)



Series: You Can Leave Your Hat On [1]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Barebacking, Dancing, Established Relationship, Hats, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot, Singing, Suit Porn, You Can Leave Your Hat On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/Kahtya%20Sofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate welcomes Brad home after an extended absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> While watching Inception for the thousandth time, I caught sight of Arthur's braces, peeking out from beneath his waistcoat. I realized that I have themes in my fandoms; things that reoccur usually in canon, but a few are in fanon. I decided to write 4 fics, in 4 fandoms, linked to one another by: a character that regularly wears suits, the suits include waistcoats and braces, and a character portrayed by an actor who can sing. Because I was able to locate pics of the suit-wearing-singing actors wearing hats, I decided to add that in as well. The theme in each story is the song, 'You Can Leave Your Hat On'. Because all four stories are M/M, the [Etta James version](http://youtu.be/pO5sE-38MpA) of the song is the one I wrote to.
> 
> Each of the four stories can stand alone. You can read one, or you can read all four, it's reader's choice.
> 
> The fandoms for which I wrote a story are:  
> [Torchwood  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184157)[Generation Kill](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184155)  
> [Inception  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184150)[White Collar](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184788)
> 
> [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=tumblr_l3v8bfFFkW1qa2rrko1_500-1.jpg) [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=FedoraPorn.jpg)

Brad’s heart began to race as soon as the cab entered the familiar neighborhood. It started pounding against his ribs when they turned onto his street. He was out of breath when the taxi pulled up in front of his house - their house.

Grabbing his barracks cover from the seat beside him, Brad unfolded himself from the backseat. The driver was already coming around to the trunk. Donning his cover, Brad tugged the olive-colored coat of his service uniform straight. He fought back the impulse to run across the lawn and through the front door.

The driver set his large duffel on the pavement and placed his smaller carry-on next to it. Brad stepped around to pay the man. He glanced back over his shoulder at the house. The entire downstairs was lit up, which was unusual; Nate typically shut off lights in any room one of them wasn’t in. He thought he might hear music.

The driver quoted his price and Brad slid some bills from his money clip, and tucked it back into the pocket of his uniform trousers. He hefted his large duffel over his shoulder and reached for the smaller one.

“Help you with that?” the driver asked.

“No, I’ve got it,” he replied easily. “Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_ , Marine,” the driver said, smiling reverently. “For everything.”

Brad got that a lot, respect for the job he does, whatever the personal opinions about the wars themselves. He nodded acknowledgment, and turned to head into the house. It took all of his combat discipline not to break into a run.

With impatient hands, he unlocked the front door. Loud music assailed him when he stepped inside. He recognized the bluesy stuff Nate had a fondness for. Brad set down his gear, took off his cover and began to look around for Nate.

“I knew you were going to walk through that door, right about now,” Nate declared loudly, emerging from the kitchen, two tumblers of amber liquid in hand. He was still dressed in his suit from work, and desire kicked Brad in the gut.

Nate set the tumblers down on a nearby table and crossed to Brad. His smile was wide, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were luminous. Brad realized Nate was drunk. He hoped his pleasure at seeing Brad wasn’t simply a result of intoxication.

“Cab just dropped me off,” Brad said, stumbling back a few steps when Nate’s body was suddenly plastered against his own.

“Welcome home,” Nate said against Brad’s throat. “I missed you.”

Brad’s reply was forgotten when Nate’s wet lips covered his own. It was sloppy and off-center, but Brad didn’t give a fuck. Nate tasted like alcohol and home. Brad threw his cover aside, in favor of running both hands up and down Nate’s back.

Nate pulled back with a wet smack and smiled up at Brad.

“You, sir, are drunk,” Brad said, one side of his mouth lifting in amusement.

“It’s Friday night, and you’re home. I’m entitled.” Nate turned and retrieved the discarded tumblers. He handed one to Brad. “To your return,” Nate hefted his glass in a toast.

Brad returned the salute and tossed back the alcohol. “As welcoming as this homecoming is, and as appreciative as I am at your apparent enthusiasm for the return of your conquering hero, I was only at Pendleton for two months.”

Nate took the glass from Brad and returned them both to the kitchen. “Two _and a half_ months,” he shouted over the music, from the other room.

“You didn’t drive home in this condition, did you, Nate?” Brad asked, turning back to gather up his gear in order to unpack and stow it.

“Indeed, I did not,” Nate declared, from right behind Brad. He wrapped his arms around Brad’s waist and breathed against the back of his neck. “I took the train into the city, today. So I just got a cab to and from the station.”

Brad let his bags fall to the floor at the first touch of Nate’s lips. His cock stirred, starting to press against his skivvies; Brad knew he was already hard enough to ruin the line of his uniform.

Like that fuckin’ mattered, anymore. He was home.

Brad was about to turn around and gather Nate to him, but Nate surprised him by reaching out and grabbing his fedora from the coat tree. It was the hat Nate usually only wore in inclement weather, when an umbrella was too cumbersome. Brad sometimes wished Nate would wear it more often.

Feeling cold and bereft when Nate’s heat abruptly left him, Brad turned to see Nate snatching up his barracks cover from where he’d tossed it. He quickly crossed to Brad and carefully placed the cover on his head, perfectly regulation.

Nate stepped back to regard his work. Brad’s knees went weak, at the wicked smile Nate gave him. Nate lifted one eyebrow, and tugged the brim of his fedora down low over his forehead. “You,” he said, giving Brad a heated look, “are fucking hot in uniform.”

Brad’s erection was nearly painful in the confines of his pants. He wanted to say something witty in response, but his brain short-circuited.  That, and his mouth was suddenly dry as dust.

The song on the stereo changed, launching into some sort of funky blues. It sounded _dirty_ , in Brad’s current state of mind.

Nate’s eyes widened. He bolted across the room toward the stereo, shouting as he went, “Oh, I fucking _love_ this song!”

Well, if Brad had known that earlier, he’d have loaded it to his iPod and put in on permanent repeat.

Nate turned back to Brad and began to sing along with the music.

Brad knew his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t really have the bodily control to close it. He’d heard Nate hum before. He’d heard him sing to himself, under his breath. It wasn’t unpleasant. He’d even have gone so far as to say Nate could probably carry a tune.

He’d had no idea.

Nate was singing with enough volume to be heard over the stereo. He hit every note, knew every lyric, and his voice didn’t break once.

Huh.

As Nate sang, he slowly walked toward Brad. There was a look in Nate’s eyes that Brad recognized well, and his body responded as it always did. Brad’s heart pounded and his palms itched to reach out and touch.

As Nate walked, he reached for the button of his suit jacket. He slid the charcoal wool from his shoulders and tossed it onto the sofa. The pale green fabric of Nate’s tailored shirt was a bright contrast beneath his dark waistcoat. The look emphasized Nate’s broad shoulders, and his narrow waist and hips. Brad watched, mesmerized, as Nate unfastened the buttons of his waistcoat. He let it fall open, and Brad could see the way his shirt stretched attractively across his chest. The dark elastic of Nate’s braces enticed Brad, made him want to reach out and twist his hands in them, locking Nate to him.

Nate’s voice lowered, as he sang along with a particularly lustful part of the song, and his long fingers reached for his tie. He started to pull the dark green silk from his collar; Brad held up a hand to forestall him. Nate grinned at him, like he knew just why Brad wanted the length of fabric left where it was. Brad’s eyes were drawn back to Nate’s fingers as Nate worked open the top two buttons of his shirt.

The sight of Nate’s naked throat, the hint of his collarbone, was too much for Brad. He reached across the distance.

Before he could feel heated fabric beneath his hands, Nate gripped his wrists. He used them to steer Brad backward and to the left. Too stunned to resist, Brad let himself be manhandled. When his heel knocked against the wall, Brad stumbled. The slick soles of his highly polished dress shoes slid out from under him. He sprawled heavily on the cushioned window seat. He had no chance to recover, before Nate was in his lap, straddling his thighs.

Brad had a moment’s concern that the blinds were still partially open, before Nate reached up and tugged the cord to close them completely. Then Brad’s face was clasped between those elegant hands, and Nate’s mouth was on his, devouring.

Letting his head rest back against the wall, Brad reached up and twined his hands into Nate’s braces. He tried to pull Nate closer. He needed those lips pressing, even harder, into his.

Nate held Brad right where he wanted him, tilting his own head so the brim of his hat didn’t interfere with the kiss. Nate teased the flat of his tongue along Brad’s lips, and moved away when Brad parted to receive him. Nate licked into Brad’s mouth, only to dart away again just as Brad’s tongue found him. Nate didn’t seal their lips. The cool air moved around their tongues, and Nate breathed hotly into Brad’s mouth.

Brad felt Nate’s fingers trail down his cheeks, his jaw, and then his throat. Nate tugged off Brad’s tie and dragged it out from underneath his uniform coat. He tossed it over his shoulder with a grin. Brad wanted to smile back, but he was struggling just to breathe. His chest heaved like he’d just run five miles. He watched helplessly as Nate deftly opened the top buttons of his khaki shirt.

The music shifted, this time to something more like a blues standard. Nate moaned, smiled, and started to slide from Brad’s lap. Brad made a sound of protest, tightening his grip on Nate’s braces.

Nate gave Brad a sympathetic look. “I’m not going very far. Trust me. You’ll like this.”

Brad lessened his grip, just enough for Nate to slide to the floor. He knelt between Brad’s thighs while Brad sat mesmerized by the sight of Nate’s fingers opening the belt of his uniform. He let the ends fall away, and made quick work of the buttons on Brad’s olive coat.

At the sight of the khaki and brass belt at the waist of Brad’s olive trousers, Nate made a sound of frustration. “Fuckin’ chastity belt,” he murmured.

Brad chuckled, embarrassed at the breathy sound of his own voice.

Nate made quick work of Brad’s belt, and next his trouser fly. Brad gasped when Nate lowered his head, breathing heated air against Brad’s hard cock through the fabric of his skivvies. Brad’s erection jumped slightly, at the sensation and in anticipation. He breathed heavily through parted lips as he watched Nate shove his shirts up to his chest, and tug his trousers down over his hips. Brad shifted, lifting to help.

All the while, Brad’s hands stayed fisted in Nate’s braces.

Brad stopped breathing when Nate looked up at him, just past the brim of his hat. Nate’s eyes were on fire. He locked eyes with Brad and lowered his head.

The wet heat of Nate’s mouth enveloped Brad’s cock. Brad gasped; a deep shuddering breath that he sucked in through clenched teeth. He flexed his hips upward, shoving himself in just a little farther while his hands clenched reflexively in Nate’s braces. He wanted to run his fingers through Nate’s hair, but that damn hat was in his way.

Nate tilted his head, looking up at Brad past the hat brim. Brad decided he could leave the fucking thing on.

“Fuck,” Brad whispered, when Nate’s fingers dug into his hips and pressed them down into the cushioned bench. He wanted to thrust up, fuck himself into Nate but he was pinned down. Nate brought to bear all the strength of the muscles he kept so artfully disguised with expensive fabrics and exquisite tailoring. Brad was right where Nate wanted him.

He watched the crown of the hat moving over his hips, even as Brad felt the heat of Nate’s mouth envelope and release his cock. He watched the hat lift and dip with the same fantastic, and frustrating, rhythm of Nate’s lips gliding up and down his length.

Sensation started in the base of Brad’s spine and rolled through his pelvis. Heat collected and pooled low in his belly and he knew he needed to warn Nate.

“Nate,” he said, voice low and rough, “Nate, Nate, hey.”

Nate pulled himself off of Brad’s cock with one last, long, hard suck.

Before Brad could catch his breath, Nate was back in his lap. Brad made a sound of protest into Nate’s mouth. He could feel Nate’s fingers on his own, trying to unwind Brad’s hands from where they were still twisted in Nate’s braces.

Nate shushed him, in between kisses. “I want you to fuck me,” he whispered.

Brad released his grip on Nate’s braces. He felt a small cylinder pressed into his palm. Nate pulled back and Brad glanced down to see the bottle of lube.

Nate was grinning down at Brad, as he slowly slid his waistcoat down his arms. He tossed it aside, still holding Brad’s gaze. Nate’s hands lifted again, and this time he tugged his braces down off of his shoulders. Brad lunged up off of the bench and pushed Nate backward with a single hand to his chest. Nate went willingly, never dropping the grin, until his back was up against the opposite wall of the window embrasure.

Brad pressed himself to the length of Nate’s body. He rubbed his sensitized cock against the material of Nate’s trousers. He ducked and tilted his head, so he could press his open mouth to Nate’s neck and not dislodge the sexy fucking hat. And when Brad felt Nate’s hands begin to work open his own flies, he stopped him.

Nuzzling Nate’s throat as he worked, Brad rapidly unfastened the buttons of his shirt. He pushed aside the fabric and ran his hands over the smooth skin of Nate’s chest, over his budding nipples and down the flexing muscles of his belly.

Brad grabbed Nate’s hips and turned him to face the wall. He watched as the braces swung freely around Nate’s legs. With a rough hand on Nate’s inner thigh, Brad urged him to place one knee up on the bench. Then, Brad reached for the waist of his trousers.

He bunched wool and cotton both, down Nate’s thighs. Brad ran his hands over Nate’s taut, rounded ass. Nate was right. Two and half months was too fucking long.

“Getting a little impatient here,” Nate said, face pressed to the wall.

Brad bit down hard on the back of Nate’s neck. He opened the bottle of lube as he listened to Nate swear into the wall of the embrasure. Brad coated his fingers and used his other hand to spread Nate’s ass cheek slightly. He circled the tight, furled opening with a single finger and pushed inside.

Nate sighed and pushed back slightly, opening up readily for Brad’s hand. He pressed his finger in and around, spreading the lube and getting Nate ready. Brad added a second finger, and Nate pressed his forehead to the wall, bending the brim of his hat. His hands clenched into fists against the wall, as he breathed heavily, murmuring obscenities.

Brad withdrew his fingers and added more lube. It had been so long; he wanted a slick, wet glide this time. He slid two fingers in right away. He ran his free hand up along Nate’s belly and chest, feeling the muscles work as he pushed back into Brad’s hand. He pushed three fingers in hard and smiled at the sound of Nate’s frustrated growl.

Pulling his fingers free, Brad placed his knee on the bench, just inside of and alongside Nate’s. He pressed his face to the back of Nate’s sweaty neck. He felt the brim of the hat graze his own forehead, as he inhaled deeply of Nate’s masculine scent. Brad gripped Nate’s hips in one hand. He lifted his own shirt out of the way so he’d have a clear view of this. He lined himself up with Nate’s opening, and thrust in.

It felt overwhelmingly good, to bury himself in Nate’s heat. Brad pushed himself up and in, exhaling at the sensation of his hips and belly pressing against Nate’s ass. He slid his hands around Nate’s waist, gliding over the skin of his stomach, then down along the flexing muscles of Nate’s hips.

Nate pressed backward into Brad. He pressed his clenched fists into the wall in front of him, and his head fell forward. He flexed his hips backward into each of Brad’s thrusts, pushing hard and increasing the slap of their skin when it met. Brad stared, in fascination, at the clean line of Nate’s haircut on his neck, and the soft whorls just beneath the brim of the hat. He reached down, and curled his hands into Nate’s braces, where they bounced rhythmically against his thighs. With his fists wrapped tightly in the elastic, Brad returned his grip to Nate’s hips.

The song ended and a new one didn’t start. Brad guessed Nate hadn’t set the playlist or the CD carousel – whatever – on repeat. Silence descended and covered them like a cloak. Brad realized he was pretty happy about that, since now he could hear _every_ sound Nate was making, and some of them were insanely fucking hot.

With each rhythmic stroke of Brad’s cock in or out, Nate gave a soft, sighing grunt. When Brad thrust just a little harder, the soft grunt morphed into a harsh groan. If Brad slowed down and gave a long, drawn out push inward, Nate moaned. If Brad tried to stay shallow, tease Nate with just the head of his dick, Nate growled angrily, and shoved himself back onto Brad’s cock.

Brad could listen forever, to the sounds of Nate being fucked.

Letting one of the braces unfurl from his hand, Brad reached around and closed his fingers over Nate’s straining erection. In response, Nate sucked in a ragged breath, his hips stuttering and slipping out of rhythm with Brad.

It was a gratifying fucking reaction.

He stroked Nate slow, keeping his grip firm. Nate didn’t seem to know what to do. He seemed to want to keep pushing backward, onto Brad’s cock. He also seemed to need to fuck himself forward into Brad’s fist. The way he clenched tight around Brad’s erection was spectacular.

“Brad,” Nate cried out. He pushed himself back from the wall, and pressed his entire body against Brad’s.

“What?” Brad whispered against the shell of Nate’s ear. “What d’you need?”

Brad felt one of Nate’s hands curl around the back of his head, the other twined with his on Nate’s hip. He watched as Nate turned his face upward, movements languid, until their lips were almost touching. Brad could feel Nate’s hot breath ghosting over his cheek and his mouth. His face was flushed, color high on his cheeks. He looked at Brad with heavy lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with desire, from beneath the brim of his hat.

It was a good look on Nate.

He squeezed Nate’s dick, stroked him just a little harder and gave a rough thrust. Nate bit back his cry, biting down on his own lower lip.

“Ah, fuck, Nate,” Brad moaned, almost embarrassed by how wrecked his own voice sounded. “You know you damn near make me come when you do that?” He lowered his head and dragged his tongue along the line of Nate’s straight, white teeth. Brad urged Nate to release the abused flesh of his lip, so he could suck on it himself.

Nate opened his mouth and kissed Brad. It was wet and messy, Nate’s body rocked and jolted with each slam of Brad’s hips against his ass. They made it work, breathing heavily, into and against, each other. Brad teased at Nate’s tongue with his own. He was rewarded with the feel of Nate dragging his tongue alone the line of Brad’s upper teeth. Brad pushed his tongue deeper into Nate’s mouth, loving the feel of Nate’s tongue rubbing slickly against his own.

He felt a hot rush of blood course through Nate’s dick. Brad felt it grow thicker in his palm. It twitched in his fist, pulsing violently. Nate’s body clenched hard around Brad’s cock, even as his hips moved erratically. Brad buried himself deep in Nate’s ass, stroking his erection with intent, now.

“Don’t stop,” Nate gasped, “don’t stop or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Brad chuckled. Then, he made soothing and sympathetic sounds against Nate’s lips, as he began to come in Brad’s hand.

Nate shot his come messily over Brad’s fist, and over his own belly. It was hot, and it was sticky, each pulse too violent to contain neatly. Nate’s body held Brad’s cock in a vice-like grip. Brad could feel every shudder, every quiver of Nate’s inner muscles. The cuff of Brad’s uniform ended up coated in Nate’s jizz, even as the fabric of Nate’s shirt darkened with its own stains. Brad thought he might even be able to feel the erratic beat of Nate’s heart.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Nate chanted breathlessly. His knees seemed to give, and Brad wrapped his arm around Nate’s chest.

This could get problematic, given that Brad’s still-hard cock was buried in Nate’s ass. Brad was getting pretty fucking desperate to come inside of Nate, too.

Nate took a deep, fortifying breath. Suddenly, his legs grew steady enough to hold him upright.

Brad never should have underestimated Nate.

He wound his hands into Nate’s braces, one last time. He gripped Nate’s hips and tugged him backward. Brad seated his cock inside of Nate, clear to the hilt. “Look at me, Nate,” he demanded harshly, struggling for each breath he took.

Nate twined his fingers with Brad’s where they gripped his hips. He turned and looked up at Brad. He kept his head angled, so that he watched Brad through the thick fringe of his lashes. His eyes glimmered from just beneath the brim of his hat.

“Yeah, just like that,” Brad said, feeling that look send electric jolts sizzling through his hips and into his cock. “Look at me just like that. Watch me, while I come inside your tight ass.”

Brad fucked Nate - he fucked him hard. Brad grunted loudly, feeling the strain of his efforts in every muscle of his body. Nate was hot and tight around him and he was damn fucking close to coming. Nate’s mouth hung open obscenely as he made lewd sounds of pleasure each time Brad’s cock slid into him.

The final straw was when the fucker bit down on his own lower lip. The sight of that was all Brad needed. He buried himself, one last time, all the way to the hilt. Brad convulsed violently around Nate. His muscles spasmed, rocking them both. Sensation jolted down his spine and through his pelvis. He could feel his come flood Nate’s ass. Brad could almost fucking count the number of hot jets of spunk he poured deep inside of Nate.

Then, Brad’s knees gave out. They tumbled to the bench of the window seat in a graceless heap. Brad was hopelessly tangled in Nate’s braces and Nate’s hat had been knocked askew. It gave him a rather rakish, if disheveled look.

Brad thought he should probably pull out of Nate, make an effort to get them cleaned up. Nate didn’t seem in a hurry to move, though. Brad stayed where he was, his chest pressed to Nate’s back.

“As much as I love to welcome you home,” Nate finally said, “I really don’t like it when you’re gone.”

“As much as I like to be welcomed home, I don’t like being gone,” Brad concurred. “Is the drunk serenading and the wearing of the hat something I can only look forward to as a welcome home celebration?”

“Oh fuck,” Nate moaned, looking mortified, “I _did_ do that, didn’t I?”

Brad chuckled. “I’m not sure which of those two things I liked best.”

“I was thinking of wearing the hat when I fucked you, later tonight.”

Yeah, Nate could definitely keep the hat on.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by planejane, who has my undying love and devotion.


End file.
